


To Teach a Hobby (Sequel to "Hobby")

by psychosomatic86



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and I think I may have gone too far with it, but there's fluff!, i changed my mind, knitfic, me being a nerd again, no innuendo this time, there's violence now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:56:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychosomatic86/pseuds/psychosomatic86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Cecil has a hobby, and Carlos loves it. In fact, he loves it so much he wants to learn it! But, of course, it's Night Vale, so nothing goes quite as planned. (especially when it comes to learning something new)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Learning and Loving

“AH! I give up!” Carlos threw the needles down in frustration and crossed his arms. “It’s too hard, I’ll never get it.”

Cecil scooched closer and picked up the swatch, handing it back to his boyfriend. “Yes you will, it just takes practice.”

He smiled at Carlos who regarded the needles and _not-yarn_ with utter contempt. The fabric was lumpy and awkward, nothing like the perfect stitches Cecil could make.

Cecil poked his arm with one of the needles, an expectant look on his face, and Carlos sighed. He took them as Cecil helped him delicately re-wrap the _not-yarn_ back over his pinky and forefinger.

It was his own fault, he had brought this upon himself. He had become so engrossed in Cecil’s hobby that he wanted to learn it himself. All the lacy scarves and throws Cecil made, and the ridiculous toys for Khoshekh, it just looked like so much fun!

Carlos scoffed inwardly as he thought this. Fun. Yeah right, more like a sadistic form of self torture and agonizing mistakes. He was a scientist, and scientists don’t make mistakes. If a hypothesis was not correct, no problem! All he had to do was go back and tweak it a little until the data supported it. He rarely had to rearrange the whole experiment and start from scratch. But knitting, _oh knitting_. If you made one _single_ mistake and didn’t notice it right away, well, weren’t you given a nasty surprise when you found a seam and a dropped stitch 10 rows later.

And yet, he couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when he’d come so close to mastering stockinette stitch. Not when he was so close to conquering the way of the purl and the glorious “v’s” it made on one side of the work. It was like a drug, he hated it, yet he loved it, yet he _loathed_ it.

“I hate this so much.” He said matter-of-factly as his needle slipped to the front of the work and the not-yarn suddenly vanished. He threw his head back in a sigh and let the swatch fall into his lap.

“How do you deal with this?”

Cecil shrugged, “depends on what you’re referring to.” Carlos turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well,” Cecil continued, “do you mean purling or the occasional vanishing of the yarn?”

Carlos gave him a _you’re-joking-right?_ look and Cecil smirked.

“C’mon, now, don’t feel bad, every knitter hates purling.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Carlos replied sarcastically but he was smiling nonetheless. He picked his work back up and began again, keeping the yarn to the back and inserting the needle down to the left although he was so tempted for the elegant feel of putting it up through the bottom and to the right.

“See? You’re getting it!” Cecil remarked gleefully as he watched his boyfriend squint intently, glasses almost touching the needles.

“M hm.” Carlos mumbled as he absentmindedly stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. “Aaand, THERE!” He purled the last stitch with an air of accomplishment and held his work out for Cecil to see.

“I’m so proud of you!” Cecil pulled him into a hug as he admired his boyfriend’s first stockinette swatch. There were a few bumps from where he had accidentally knit on the wrong side and the edges were a little frumpy because he hadn’t slipped the side stitches, but all in all, it was beautiful, and Cecil knew he would keep it forever.

“Congratulations, Carlos!” Cecil kissed him on the nose, “it only gets harder from here!”

“Oh boy, can’t wait.” Carlos sighed as curled up on the bed where they were sitting and laid his head on Cecil’s lap. Cecil set the knitting aside and began his magic with his perfect fingers in Carlos’ perfect hair.

“Mm, y’know what?” Carlos mumbled.

“Yes?” Cecil replied, still inwardly gushing over the piece of fabric his boyfriend had just made.

“It’s be a lot easier if I had some real yarn to work with.”

Cecil’s fingers stopped, and Carlos looked up see a strange look on his face. “Carlos, you know we can’t do that.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. I still thinks it’s stupid that The City Council had to ban real yarn. It would just be so much easier if the yarn didn’t disappear all the time.”

“Yeah,” Cecil said, a dreamy look in his eyes as he remembered the feel of real yarn, the way it existed permanently on all sensory planes, but he quickly shook his head to clear the thoughts. “I told you about what happened. And I'd rather not have my face impaled thank you very much.”

“Yeah, shame.” Carlos smiled.

“Oh?” Cecil teased as he poked Carlos in that certain spot on his side, “Would you rather I have a needle stabbed into my face just so you have an easier time knitting?”

Carlos giggled as he scrunched into a tighter ball to try to alleviate the tickling. “Ahaha! No! AH! StahahahaHAP!” He tried to roll over away from Cecil’s devilish hands but just ended up in a perfect position for Cecil to pin his arms on his back as his fingers worked relentlessly on his sides.

“AHAAAHAH! CE-CECIL! STAHHAAP!” Tears were streaming from Carlos’ eyes and he could hardly breath.

“Oh? So you don’t want my face to be stabbed?” Cecil was grinning widely, “Is that it?”

“YEHEHES! HAAAAHAAHA!” Carlos hiccuped and gasped, his face red, and Cecil lifted his knee. Carlos clasped his freed arms tightly to his sides as the laughter still racked his body. It took a few seconds to calm down, and Cecil sat back on his heels, grinning, as Carlos pushed himself up into a sitting position. There was a coy smile on the scientists face, and Cecil knew that look.

“No-” he began but Carlos was already on top of him.

“AH! Carlos!” He giggled as his boyfriend pinned his arms above his head, a wild gleam in his eyes. His legs squirmed as Carlos straddled him, still holding tightly to Cecil’s hands.

“Payback.” The scientist grinned, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to Cecile’s, stifling his boyfriend’s small squeak of excitement.

 

 


	2. A Deadly Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil has a surprise for Carlos. That's all I'm giving away

Carlos was coming home early. Well, early for him at least if it counted that he would not be at the lab until 11 pm. So, yes, he was early, and he was excited.

Cecil had called, and he sounded positively bursting with anxious news. He said he had a surprise for Carlos and he needed to get home right away.

That call had been 4 hours ago.

Carlos couldn’t just tear himself away from his latest experiment, couldn’t just leave at the drop of a hat. He had called several times to tell Cecil when he was supposedly on his way, that he just had to check one last time. He would revisit the table with all the the bubbling flasks and look at Rochelle and David’s faces of pure confusion and sigh into the phone to tell Cecil he’d call him again when he was sure he was leaving. Finally, Rochelle had said she could handle it, Dave nodding in reply, and she gave Carlos a knowing wink to which he rolled his eyes at playfully.

So, here he was, in his car, running through his head the possibilities of what Cecil’s surprise could be. In Night Vale, the meaning of surprise could range from any manner of adorable to horrific instances. From a Valentine’s Day card Cecil had fought to deactivate just so Carlos would know he was so special to him, to a home cooked meal that consisted of terrified stances atop the dining table, clutching tight to a meat tenderizer as sinister tentacles slithered about on the floor… Yup. He’d been through it all. And yet, he wasn’t even scared or nervous as he drove, he actually kind of liked the adrenaline rushes that came with whatever Cecil planned.

Crap!

He’d forgotten to call Cecil!

No problem, he’d just send him a quick text.  _I’m a responsible driver_ , he told himself as pulled out his phone,  _it’s just this once, anyway_.

He tried to tap the appropriate letters while staring intently at the road but the words came out a jumbled mess, so he glanced quickly at the screen, then the road, then back at the screen as his thumb typed. _A bloodied smiley emoji, aaand, done_! He looked back at the road just as he was about to hit send.

“Shit!” Carlos slammed on the brakes, and his phone fell to the floor. The scientist immediately ducked his head down, praying to the not-angels that it hadn’t seen him. He chanced a look over the dashboard and dropped his head back down almost as quickly as he’d brought it up. It was mere inches away from his halted car, and it had looked right at him.

“ _Please, please, please, please…_ ” he whispered into his hands, tears creeping at the edges of his eyes. He’d heard stories of what happened when people walked a little too close to the dog park, what happened when the hooded figures got hold of them.

_Why is it so far from those double obsidian walls anyway?_

His phone glowed brightly by the gas pedal and he reached for it, erasing his previous text and starting a new one as his whole body trembled with fearful anticipation.

_Cecil, I don’t know if I’m going to make it home, but if I don’t_

A sudden cold, like the exhalation of a dying breath, prickled the back of his neck. He froze, not wanting to turn around and see the horror that he knew was leaning over from the back seat but at the same time not wanting to not see it. His hands quavered and a few tears leaked out of his eyes.

_I’m going to die._

“Not now, not just yet.” The voice was like decaying leaves rustling on a sandpaper sidewalk, and it grated against every nerve fiber in Carlos’ tensed body.

“There are laws everyone must abide by, and you will learn why.”

Carlos tried to swallow and found his throat parched and dry.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

He waited a few seconds, then the seconds to minutes. Silence.

He slowly turned around to see the car was empty. The road ahead was clear too, no sign of a nightmare cloaked figure anywhere. He cradled his head in his hands in relief, the cold of the phone’s touch screen felt good against the nervous sweat he had broken out into. His eyes shot open as he realized what he was doing. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.

He gingerly brought down his phone.

The text had sent. The half finished,  _what-would-seem-to-Cecil-as-his-last-words-cut-short_  text had sent. This horrible thought barely had time to sink in before his phone immediately went dead.

***

Cecil was pacing. Stopping. Looking back at the bag on the couch. Shaking his head. Pacing.

He shouldn’t have done this. He really, really, really shouldn’t have done this, and he shuddered as he remembered the looping message and the sinister needle.

But Josie said it was safe.

The Erikas had deactivated it for Glow Cloud’s sake! It still existed, but it just wouldn’t attack. It had to be safe, right? Right?

Of course, so why was he so damn nervous?

_It’s just the fact that I’m breaking the law._

That’s was it. He’d never gone this far against The City Council before so he was just jittery at his unlawful behavior, and he tried to convince himself everything was fine as a wormy feeling crept along the edges of his stomach.

_This is for Carlos dammit!_

Yes, for Carlos. The squirmy feeling subsided a little as he imagined how excited his boyfriend would be when he saw what he had gotten for him. How he would thread it through his fingers as they began their practice on ribbing, and how he would hold the skein for him as he worked.

He sat down on the couch and took out the yarn. The real yarn. The yarn that would stay in all forms of existence and oh, Glow Cloud, it felt so good. He tangled his fingers in its existing perfection and was so tempted to get out a pair of needles and knit it right then and there.

But he couldn’t.

It was for Carlos.

His phone suddenly buzzed and he jumped a little as the sound brought him back to the reality the yarn had momentarily stole him from.

Carlos had texted!

He was finally headed home and Cecil smiled gleefully. The mirth was quickly torn from his face as he read the text. He read it again. And again. One last time in case the letters had decided to rearrange themselves.

He willed himself to not freak out, pushing the terror down into his stomach where it churned, angrily. Maybe Carlos had just sent it by accident and the rest was on the way. Yes! That was it, he had mistakenly sent it, unfinished, and the rest would come in a second or two. But those foreboding words… he wasn’t sure he even wanted a second half.

He didn’t have to worry about what the rest of the text said because it didn’t come. As he sat, staring at the phone, clutching like it like a life preserver, the fear swelled inside of him until he was shaking and sweating.

No little message bubble appeared on the screen. No words to further explain what was happening.

He texted back:  _CARLOS WHAT’S GOING ON!?_

He sent it with a shaky thumb and began the agonizing waiting once more.

Nothing.

His breathing and pulse quickened to a simultaneous pace of unnatural speed and he jumped up from the couch, grabbed his keys, and was just about to bolt out the door to find Carlos when a thought suddenly stopped him dead in his tracks, his fist froze on the door handle

_What if The City Council found out and they took Carlos?_

But that wouldn’t make sense. They would come for him first… wouldn’t they?

_What if they’re doing this to toy with me, what if taking Carlos is my punishment?_

No! He shook the thought away. They wouldn’t do that. This offense wasn’t as serious as downloading stolen music. This was a minor discrepancy of bringing a banished item into Night Vale. That deserved a punishment of two days of re-education, max! This was a level 4 offense, not a color 6/B, no, The City Council didn’t have him.

_Then what the fuck is going on?_

He stepped slowly away from the door as he tried to figure out what to do, tried to figure out what had happened to Carlos.

He started pacing again, though this time it was fueled by fear and nerves rather than the excitement he’d had earlier for Carlos’ surprise. Back and forth, back and forth, his mind raced with his frantic steps as every horrific possibility formed, only to be dismissed by whatever logic he could muster to dispel the ghastly thoughts.

_Footsteps._

Cecil unlaced his sweaty hands and stood still. The sound grew louder, and he was about to rush at the door when a wide eyed Carlos suddenly burst in.

“Oh thank the Gods!” Cecil cried, throwing himself at Carlos and embracing him as though he’d never done so before.

“That text,” Carlos sighed gratefully into his boyfriend’s hair, “Cecil, I’m so sorry.”

“I just… I didn’t know what to do!” Cecil whimpered, still not trusting that he wasn’t hallucinating holding Carlos.

“Gods, Cecil, I know. I just, I thought I was going to… I thought the hooded figure was going to kill me.”

Cecil pushed back and looked at him with confused horror.

_“The hooded figure?”_

“Yes, Cecil, it was- what’s wrong?” Cecil had gone horribly pale.

“C-Carlos... “ He stammered. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. If he just didn’t accept it maybe it wouldn’t come true.

“Cecil, what’s wrong?” Carlos’ nerves ignited all over again

“What did it say to you.” Cecil’s voice was flat and terrified.

Carlos furrowed his eyebrows, “How did you know it talked to me?”

_"What did it say!”_  His voice was shaking.

“It- it said I wasn’t going to die just yet. That I had to abide by laws and I would learn why.”

Cecil’s world crashed around him. His vision suddenly stalled to a lagging slow motion, and Carlos’ next words were nothing but a hum to his shocked brain.

_No. No no no._

“Cecil! What’s going on?! What’s wrong!?” Anger crept into Carlos’ terrified voice as he looked at his catatonic boyfriend, and he shook him by the shoulders as he pleaded for an answer.

_The yarn._

Cecil suddenly snapped back into real time and stumbled for the couch. The bag was empty. He looked back at Carlos standing there, confused and terrified and bolted upright, clutching tight to the keys in his hand.

“We have to go. NOW!” Carlos was not dying. Not tonight.

“CECIL! WHAT’S GOING-” But his words were cut short as a thick i-cord suddenly wrapped around his neck.

“NO!” Cecil screamed, diving forward but was tripped and pulled to the ground by another cord. The hissing yarn wrapped tightly around his ankles and snaked up his body to his throat. He struggled against it, screaming and writhing, tearing at it with his keys, but it was stronger. He caught a glimpse of Carlos feebly trying to relieve the pressure on his trachea and a burst of anger welled inside of him.

He thrashed wildly, screaming for all he was worth, and his legs suddenly crashed into the couch side table. The lamp atop it fell to the floor, smashing into jagged pieces, and Cecil managed to grab a large shard as the yarn seethed and growled. He slashed viciously at his attacker while his other hand fought desperately to keep his throat clear.

The yarn shrieked and recoiled for a moment before advancing again with almost double its angry power. It tightened around his stomach, squeezing the air from him and snaked around his wrist up to his throat. His free hand still whipped the jagged glass shard and sliced into the yarn, though now this only enraged it further.

His lungs burned for air that he could not retrieve, the yarn constricting adamantly around his throat, and the glass shard fell from his hand as the world around him turned fuzzy and gray.

But just as he was about to lose consciousness, the pressure on his neck and stomach released. Color returned to his vision and sweet oxygen trickled into his lungs. He heaved in great gasps of air, coughing and writhing to rid himself of the now limp yarn tangled all over his body.

_Carlos._

“Oh Gods, oh Gods! Carlos, no!” He scrambled on his hands and knees to where the scientist lay, unmoving.

“No no no no no no no… Carlos!”

He sliced the thick coils of yarn encasing Carlos’ throat as tears pooled in his eyes and dripped onto the scientist's still cheeks.

“No no no, please no, oh Gods please…”

Cecil placed two fingers on his neck. There was no pulse.

“OH GODS NO!”  The tears came faster as he began CPR, pumping hard on his chest, blowing air into his lungs, pumping again.

“No no no, Carlos please, please, please…”

For two minutes he worked on him and for two minutes, he yielded no results.

And for two hours he sat there, weeping and cursing, tearing at his hair, and kissing the lips that would never again return the osculations.

And for the rest of his life, he never forgave himself. For the rest of his life, he never picked up another pair of needles or yarn. For the rest of his life, he lived with the guilt of what he had done.

And for the rest of his life, he lived, knowing he had been the one to cause the death of his only love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I go too far you guys?

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, more knitting weirdness. I got so much great feedback from my previous work "Hobby" I just had to make a sequel. The next chapter is gonna be... weird, so, yeah, gonna have fun with that. Thanks for reading, as always, love to know what you guys think! ^-^


End file.
